In Which People Are Insane and Do Random Dialogues
by jweb guru
Summary: HOORAY! I went insane from writing the serious fic, so therefore, to attack nobody, I did this! Joy! Random, pointless dialogues by TP characters. Extra stupidity guaranteed! **CHAPTER 7 IS UP!** Review, or the cheese shall attack and destroy you!
1. Winding Circle Student Comparison: WCSC

**Author's Note:** As you may have been able to tell from how short the chapters are in comparison with my normal stories, writing a serious story (It's her fault!  ***Points dramatically to Venus Saturnalia.*)** is driving me INSANE!  **("But you already are insane!" squeaks Pounce.")**  Anyway, I therefore must write a random, pointless, plotless humor story to make up for this slow death!

_Sandry, Daja, Tris, and Briar compare their students._

**Sandry:** Pasco's better than Evvy, because Pasco can _dance_, and Evvy can't use that as her talent in talent show.  'Cause nobody cares if you can break stones over your head without doing anything, but if you dance and then fruit comes into peoples' mouths, THAT is coo-

**Briar:** Stuff it, Bag.  Pasco can't dance for beans!

**Daja:** Well, cooking is cool!  Because when you cook something, there's something to eat!  And you can't eat a dance!  We Traders have a saying about that: _When you are a cook mage, you're a mage who can cook_!

**Sandry:** Gee, I never would have guessed without you, Daja!

**Daja:** And carpentry is _so_ much cooler than stones.  'Cause with wood, you're cutting wood, and you can make a ship.  And with stone, all you do is cut stone and make – ***falls silent.***

**Briar: *sarcastically*** You _just_ caught on, didn't you?

**Sandry:** I've got a great idea!

**Tris: **What?  You're going to tease me just because the book about me hasn't come out yet, so the author doesn't know who my student is or what magic he or she has, so I'm not special and can't argue?

**Sandry: *impatiently*** No!  Let's try roleplaying!

**Briar:** Okay.  ***Tacks Sandry to the wall with thorny vines.*** TAKE IT BACK!

**Sandry:** You have my word as a _noble_ that my student is better, street rat!  ***Sandry takes some yarn from a plot hole, ties it in a special way, and the vine returns to the soil.***

**All (including Sandry):** OOOOHH….

**Briar:** How do you do that?

**Sandry: *smugly*** You have to be special.

**All but Tris: **I'M SPECIAL!

**Tris:** Just because I don't have a student doesn't mean I'm not special, Mr. Author!  Anyway, for all you know I _do_ have a student, and Tamora Pierce just hasn't told us who it is yet.

**Author:** Dream on, landlubbers!

**Daja:** Right.  Like _you've_ ever been in a boat.

_A tsunami hits the first chapter and it collapses._

**Author's Note:** Well, that was pointless, wasn't it?  Let's do it again!  Well, I will if I get enough reviews.  How come everyone is talking about Tortall?  ***Mutters dangerously.*** Well, anyway, I'll see you again when I have more reviews!  ***cough cough*** Bye!


	2. Main Tortallian Book Shoutout: MTBS

**Author's Note:** What is all this?  I mean, here I am, slaving away at a non-humor fic, and everyone reviews WHAT?  The non-humor one?  Oh, no… they have to review my _humor_ fic, which I just wrote randomly and put on it because I had nothing better to do and I really _was_ going insane with workload!  SEVEN REVIEWS!  IN!  TWO!  DAYS!  I've had the serious one up for four days, and nobody cares about it!  ***Sniffs.***  How is this happening?  What's wrong?  Well, anyway, since I know you're such great fans and I'm on _every single one_ of your favorite author's lists **(*cough, cough*)** I'm sure you'll be happy to read and review that one, too!  Even if I _do_ get flames!  For heaven's sake!  And do you have anything better to do than listen to this rant, which is going on and on and on ad infinitum until you don't know what I'm talking about?  Which is all right.  I have another thing to say, too.  Why do you want a Tortall fic so badly?  What's wrong with Emelan?  I mean, is there anything wrong with them?  Is there something wrong with me?  Just by reading this far, you probably have some sort of strange disease, too.  Either that, or lots of courage.  I admire your perseverance.  And anyway, just to spite you, I'm writing about Tortall!  Wait… um… is that even logical?  But you know, I said everyone was writing about Tortall, so… um… ***shakes head in confusion*** never mind…  On with the story!

_Kel, Daine, and Alanna compare how good the books about them were, comparatively._

**Alanna:** I go first!  Pick me!  Me!

**Daine:** What makes _you_ so special?

**Alanna: *smugly*** My book came first!

**Kel:** Which proves that you have the worst books, because Tamora was just experimenting with you!  By the time she got down to _me_, she could write _well_.  There aren't any corny plot devices in my story!

**Daine:** Oh, so what do you call your ability as a commander…

**Alanna:** …Your upbringing in the Yamani Isles…

**Daine:** …Raoul's bringing you on as a squire…

**Alanna:** …Your unexplained determination to be a lady kni–

**Kel:** ***cringing*** Oh, fine, fine!  So there _are_ a lot of plot devices in my story.  But still, they're all in _your_ story too, Alanna, and a whole lot more –

**Alanna:** I was brought up in the Yamani Isles?

**Kel:** Besides that!  You have –

**Daine:** I never knew she was a great commander!

**Kel:** Well…

**Alanna:** And you may recall that King Jonathon took me, not _Raoul_.

**Kel:** Yeah, but you _do_ have an unexplained determination to be a lady knight!  And you have the really powerful gift, and –

**Alanna: *hurriedly*** Yeah, well enough about my book, let's talk about Wild Magic!

**Kel:** That is _so_ full of plot holes.

**Daine:** Yeah, well it's not so different from Alanna having the hand of the goddess on her!  At least I don't have a _book_ with that title!

**All: *Gasp***

**Author:** She does?

**Alanna:** ***impatiently*** I thought we were talking about _Daine_'s series!

**Author:** Oh yeah.

**Alanna:** And anyway, Daine, you _are_ half-goddess!  If that's not corny, I don't know _what_ is!

**Kel:** You _don't_ know what's corny, Miss I-Won't-Love-Anyone.

**Daine:** Well, _I_ can talk to animals!  She can just heal!

**Alanna:** And scry, and use war-magic, and find the Dominion Jewel, and –

**Daine:** Oh, shut up.  Talking to animals is cooler!

**Kel:** Why do _we_ care what a turtle's thinking!

**Daine:** We don't!

**Kel:** Oh.

**Daine:** Plus, without me Carthak would have overrun Tortall!

**Alanna:** Without _you_ the Stormwings wouldn't care about us too much anyway.

**Author:** We are getting _way_ off track here!  I have to run and catch a plane to Miami!

**Kel: *innocently*** Oh, you can run?

Speeding comets smash into the second chapter and it explodes with a… um… really cool sound effect that I'm too lazy to think of right now.

**Author's Note:** Yeah, that was pretty pointless as well.  It was longer, which is because I didn't actually work on the serious fic today, and it's not midnight, and… yeah.  Not that it was midnight when I wrote it or anything… um… I mean… well, read and review, please!  You shall be richly rewarded!  ***Trumpets blare and two huge golden coins that a brief examination would reveal to be cheap counterfeits made of pyrite come down from the sky and land on a nonexistent lawn.*** These could be _yours_ if you gave me one billion trillion gazillion dollars!  Or, if you read and reviewed the story!  Wait… you've already read… well, then, please just review!  You shall be richly – wait, I already said that, didn't I?  Oh, well.  Bye!


	3. Random Conversing Discipline Mage: RCDM

**Author's Note:** …And right after I post and get 13 (!!!) reviews on my insane, pointless stories, all these Emelan fics come out and incinerate my claims.  How lovely.  I mean, I _really_ appreciate it when I say something, then everyone comes and disproves it!  What kind of world is this?  A cruel, harsh world?  Granted, I had been arguing there weren't _enough_ Emelan fics, but this is a little excessive?  The primary emotion of the world is **sarcasm**; that is what these posts have taught me.  And, for those of you who care, I _still_ have something like four reviews on my non-humor fic, which just goes to show you that I suck at writing non-humor.  I _really_ don't care.  I mean, I guess I _could_ care, but do I?  NOOOOOO… I just waste all my time writing rants and famous opinions that nobody cares about in the least on this story that nobody has a good reason for reading.  I must have problems… anyway, I'll do another dialogue.  YAY!  Also, since you guys seemed to _like_ the Emelan ones, here are some more.

_Briar, Tris, Sandry, and Daja talk on the roof of Discipline cottage (this is _before_ The Circle Opens, okay?  So please bear with me and don't make rude noises._

****

**Tris:** Look!  It's the clouds!  They're being born!

**Briar:** I _still_ think someone pays them to do it.  Why would they do it for free?

**Daja:** Um… Briar… they're CLOUDS.  They don't have BRAINS.

**Briar:** Then why's everyone obsessing over them?

**Sandry:** _Everyone_ isn't.  _You_ are.

**Briar:** Well, so is Tris!

**Tris:** Look, a butterfly!

**Briar:** It's all about _clouds_ to Tris, _cloud _this, _cloud_ that, _giraffe-shaped clouds_ this, _tiny pink mouse-shaped clouds _– hold on, what about a butterfly?

**Tris: *As though it's obvious*** It EXISTS!

**Sandry:** Yeah, we _really_ needed your help figuring that out.  I mean, naturally, a butterfly usually _wouldn't_ exist, but people would still talk about it.  Normally, a butterfly would jump around saying 'hi' but it wouldn't exis-

**Tris: *Pouts*** I don't care what _you_ think, you… you… you **_noble_**!

**All: *Gasp loudly.***

**Author: **No rude noises, please!

**All: *Glare at Author.***

**Author:** What?  I'm just doing my job.

**Daja:** Get a life.  I mean, all you do is sit around, writing stories that nobody should care about, and then going around _bragging_ about how you got thirteen worthless reviews on it.

**Author:** THEY ARE NOT WORTHLESS!

**Briar: **Prove it!

**Author:** Fine, I will!  ***Stalks over to random area.***  See?  This area is reserved for reviews.  Here are the reviews.  ***puts thirteen bottles of hydrochloric acid on the random area.*** Now watch what happens when I take these away and put them into the _nonexistent reviews area._  ***throws the bottles on a random patch of grass, where the bottles proceed to break.***  Look!  See?  ***Big explosion rocks the air.  When smoke clears, everyone looks at the once-grassy area and sees-***

**Sandry:** So _that's_ how butterflies are made!

**Author: *Smacking himself.*** That was _not_ supposed to happen!  It was _supposed_ to blow up and – never mind.

**Daja:** Hey, why are _you_ in this conversation, anyway?  ***Looks suspiciously at author's note.*** See?  It says that this is a conversation between US!  Not YOU!

**Author:** Silence, infidel!  I come and go as I please!

**Briar:** Ever heard the one about the astronaut and the blender?

A plane crashes into the third chapter, which catches on fire and plunges into the Nile.

**Author's Note:** This is probably going to be repetitive… thanks for reading the chapter, you were great, review it, blah, blah, blah, and so on and so forth.  For heaven's sake, I actually have a _life_ (well, I think I do) and I'm _not_ going to throw it away just for your enjoyment.  NO COMMENTS, PLEASE.  Thank you.  Enjoy the show!  Remember, no chapters without reviews!  I'll invent a formula soon, which will then be disproved.  Bye until next batch of reviews!


	4. Which Warrior is Best of them All: WWBA

**Author's Note:** Hooray for Emelan!  See, now, Emelan has expanded to include… um… a bunch of stuff.  And now, finally, people are writing about ***all gasp fakely*** the _students_ of the Circle of Magic characters!  How Jolly!  Jolly must always be spelled (and pronounced) with a capital J.  Anyway, I'll write about Emelan next chapter, and in the meantime I'll give you Tortall for your enjoyment!  I had actually resolved to do this _only_ when I had twenty reviews, but I figured, heck, nineteen was close enough, and anyway, I would be long in waiting for that one elusive review if other stories kept butting in front of mine.  Now that you're done listening to my fascinating opinions, on to the story!

Alanna, King Jonathon, Liam, George and Coram compare their weapons skills.

****

**Alanna:** I go first!

**Liam: *rolls eyes*** Didn't you do this in the _last_ fic?  And why, precisely, are you so intent on going first?

**Coram:** Yeah, it's not like you're so _special_ or anything.

**George:** HEY!  Don't go around mocking _my_ wife!

**Alanna:** I'm not _your_ wife, you're _my_ husband!  I own you, not the other way around!

**George: *meekly*** Sorry, O Great Master.

**Liam:** You still haven't answered my question.

**Jonathon:** Which _is…_

**Liam:** Why does she go first?

**Alanna:** Because this is the _second_ fic I'm in!

**Coram:** So?  The circle of magic characters were in TWO fics!  All of them!  Already!

**Alanna:** Oh, be quiet, slave.  I'm going first!

**George:** As you wish, Pearl of Hope.

**Alanna:** Um… George?

**George:** Yes, Moon of Mathematical Wisdom?  
**Alanna:** You are _not_ Cleon.

**George:** Oh yeah.  Sorry, Highness.

**Alanna:** Much better.  Moving on… I'm best, because _I_ can use a sword better than anyone here!

**Liam:** Wanna lay some money on that?  ***fingers twitch uncontrollably.***

**Alanna:** I already proved that I was better than you in the fourth book, you pathetic loser.  Remember?

**Liam: *hurriedly*** Oh, yeah!  Anyway, let's keep talking about the book.

**Jonathon:** We _aren't_ talking about the book, Liam.

**Coram:** Yeah.  For a king, you're pretty unintelligent.  Now old King Jason, on the other hand… now _he_ was a king worth follow-

**Jonathon:** Silence, insubordinate wretch!  I am your king!  You owe your allegiance to me!  Be quiet before I have you thrown into dungeons with lemon peels on the floors!

**Alanna: *pointedly*** I _think_ we're still talking about _my_ weapons…

**Jonathon:** Too bad.  We aren't.  We're _off_ that topic.  Now it's MY turn!

**Alanna: *Pouts.***

**Jonathon:** I'm better than any of you, because… because… um… just because.

**George: *smirking*** You don't have any reasons, _do _you?

**Jonathon: *searching desperately for a defense*** Of course I do!  I definitely do!  Oh yeah, really great reasons!  It's just… that the author… doesn't have good… uh oh.

**Liam:** Are you saying that for a particular reason?

**Jonathon: *shrugs*** Nah.  It just sounds cool.

**Liam:** Okay, just wondering.

**George:** "…Just because"… how pathetic.  _I_ can come up with better reasons than that.

**Jonathon:** ***eagerly*** Like what?

**George:** Oh, I'm not going to tell _you_ that… you'll just use them to your advantage.

**Jonathon: *taunting*** George does-n't kno-ow, George does-n't kno-ow…

**George:** Fine!  At the desert, you beat a full-blooded Bazhir tribal chief!  A strong one!  Which was cool!

**Jonathon: *strokes beard*** Yes, I was rather dashing, daring, romantic, bold, strong, courageous, intrep-

**Alanna:** No, you weren't.

**Jonathon:** I am offended!

**Coram:** Well, I'm _not_.  And guess why Alanna is so good at swordplay?

**Alanna:** Uh… I practiced a lot, and I'm just naturally better than you?

**Coram:** No, you _aren't_ just naturally better.  I told you to _learn_ the sword, remember?

**Alanna:** That's right, you did!

**Coram: *triumphantly*** And that's why you're a good swordsman!  So I deserve the credit!  Plus, I saved Duke Gareth's life, and did a whole bunch of other stuff no one mentioned because it wasn't important in the books!  So HA!  I'm the better swordsman!

**Alanna:** Face it, Coram, you aren't.

**Liam:** I was a Shang warrior before I died.

**All: *Blink.***

**George:** You… died?

**Liam:** Yeah, I died.  What's the big deal?  ***notices eyes on him.***  Hey, why's everyone staring at me?  Huh?  ***Rolls his eyes.***  Never mind.  Anyway, I trained Alanna in the arts of the Shang!  And, a friend of mine coached Jon, which was how he defeated the Bazhir dude!

**Jonathon: *mumbling*** He was _not_ your friend.  I asked.

**Liam:** ***Impatiently*** Whatever!  The point is, without us, you would've DIED fighting the guy dolled up in blue.  Plus, I am _so_ the best fighter in everything but swordsmanship!

**Author:** And archery.  Unless you want to challenge Daine…?

**Liam: *quickly* Oh, no, that's fine, just fine… *****chuckles weakly* Challenge Daine, what do these people come up with?**

**George: My turn now!  With your permission, of course, Highness.**

**Alanna: *distractedly* Yes, go ahead, go ahead.  *****Continues trying to create a spell that makes the hair fall out of Jonathon's beard.***

**Jonathon: A spell that does _what_?**

**Author: Stop reading the captions and continue on with the stupid conversation!**

**Jonathon: Fine, fine…**

**George: AS I WAS SAYING, *****glares at Jonathon* I taught young Alan – I mean, Alanna - all he – sorry, she - knew about hand-to-hand combat!  That's how she defeated Ralon of Malven!**

**Alanna: Oh, right.  So what you're saying is, I knew nothing on my own and had no natural talent that enabled me to keep up with you on your pathetically easy lessons.**

**George: Yeah, exactly righ- hey, wait a second.  THEY WERE NOT PATHETIC, AND THEY WERE NOT EASY!**

**Alanna: Yes, they were.**

**George: Tamora Pierce doesn't think so!**

**Alanna: Oh yeah?  Well, Gablonkers to Tamora Pier –**

**Omnipotent Voice: ****_EXCUSE ME?_**

**Liam: *whispering* Now you've done it.**

**Omnipotent Voice: ****_I _THOUGHT_ I JUST HEARD SOMEONE _INSULT_ THE GODDESS, TAMORA PIERCE, WRITER OF ALL THAT IS GOOD!_**

**Alanna: Oh, I did?  I'm sorry.**

**Omnipotent Voice: _YOU'RE NOT SORRY ENOUGH!  THIS WILL MAKE YOU PAY!_**

**_All:_ Uh-oh…**

**Jonathon: *in a belated whisper* And it _means_ something this time!**

Huge chunks of pure power make a whirling tornado that swamps the entire fourth chapter in a mass of flames, magic, wind, and water (no, I don't know where it came from…)

**Author's Note:** Continue to review it!  I know you like my stories so much, though, that I don't have to _give_ you that reminder anymore!  ***Cough, cough.***  At any rate, just keep up the good work (i.e. review my wonderful stories!) and ignore my infamous rants, opinions, polls (_what polls?_ I hear you asking) and other various junk of the magical natures that the items listed above.  Well, of course, you don't _have_ to, and you obviously aren't if you're reading this, but… POWER TO EMELAN!  YAY!  Next chapter _will_ be Emelan, for those of you who were wondering and who hadn't read the Author's Note at the top.  And, by the way, yes, I know that I used 'pathetic' and derivatives of it too many times.  I don't care.  So sue me.  Actually, don't.  I can't afford it.  Unless, of course, you ask for Barnes & Nobles gift cards as payment if I lose the case (I have over one thousand dollars in them!)  Anyway, lots of stories use phrases more than once, and… oops, I'm kind of getting off track here.  I'll leave you here to wrest with the Wonderful Wizard of Oz.  Ta ta!  Oh, by the way, since Venus Saturnalia threatened (well, could have threatened) to subject me to public humiliation, I assign full responsibility of and credit for the word 'Gablonkers'!  Thank you, Venus Saturnalia, for enlightening us all!


	5. Teacher Argument about Blue Pox: TABP

**Author's Note:** I now have twenty-five reviews!  Many people appear to be _very_ bored.  Especially me, because I keep writing these things.  I love reviews!  They're my friends!  Except for flames, which haven't come yet for this story, and I'd appreciate it if my reviews continued to be pure.  ***Angelic voices begin to sing annoyingly.***  ***To Angels*** Shut up!  Anyway, this one is, as promised, about Emelan… I'll figure out what it's about soon… I have to _really_ soon, since the little italics that say what this story's going to be about are down there.  (Actually, I kept putting down horrible topics for the second chapter, because I was experiencing semi-writer's block, but then again, do you care?  Probably _not_.)  So, here it is!****

Lark, Frostpine, Rosethorn, and Niko talk about what the blue pox actually was.  WARNING: Magical Gibberish ahead.  If long, multisyllabic words make you queasy, do not continue beyond this point.  Failure to comply with this warning may result in mud slides, decapitation, random IRS visits, and images of Snape extemporaneously riverdancing.  Thank you for heeding this message!  (P.S.  The preceding warning does not apply to potential reviewers)

**Niko:** The random fat content of the slices of bacon indicates that the people actually died of congestive heart failure.

**Lark:** But the healers said everyone died of… ***tries to remember Briar's Book, and fails*** …other causes…

**Rosethorn:** Yeah, they're called 'fevers'.  Live with it.

**Lark:** Do you see any indication that I'm not living?  Dead should _stay_ dead.  It's not like _you_ can say anything about life, Ms. My-student-brought-me-back-from-the-dead.

**Rosethorn:** Oh, come on!  It's an expression!

**Niko: *frowning*** He_llo_, people, we're talking about the blue pox.

**Frostpine:** I thought we were talking about your resemblance to a tomato!

**Niko:** Well, WE AREN'T.

**Frostpine:** But it said… ***Checks long topic sentence.  Face falls.***  Oh.

**Lark: *taunting*** Where's Mr. Perfect now, huh?

**Frostpine:** I, uh, had to leave him home today.

**Rosethorn:** Hey, guys, his face fell!  And the rest of his body didn't!

**All:** Oooooh...

**Frostpine:** It's a hidden talent of mine!

**Niko:** ANYway, back to the blue pox.  Why do you think it was blue?

**Lark: *sarcastically*** Someone put food coloring in it?

**Niko: *Seriously considers this possibility, and frowns.***  No, the food coloring wouldn't have spread with the disease, and the disease obviously reproduced this blue color.  It raises an interesting question, though.  Could someone with magical food coloring have been rummaging through the sewers and found –

**Rosethorn:** It was a _joke_, Niko, you dork.

**Niko: *offended*** I am _not_ a dork!

**Random Reviewers:** DON'T INSULT NIKO!

**Author:** Fine, fine.  Whatever makes you happy.

**Frostpine:** Wait.  Didn't we have to find all (um…) thirty-six keys –

**Lark:** Or less.

**Frostpine:** Shut up.  You don't even know what I'm talking about.  Anyway, didn't we have to find them in order to discover the cure for the disease?

**Rosethorn:** No, DUH!  I shouldn't have to stay here for such elementary nonsense.  ***Looks pleadingly at Author.***

**Author:** I might do it if you said pretty please, and worshiped me…

**Rosethorn:** Gee, I was just _joking_!  You gods are so gullible!

**Author:** I wonder why I even waste my time on you.

**Lark:** Because you get good reviews off us?

**Author:** Yeah, that's it.  Keep going, guys.

**Frostpine:** Look.  If Crane has all thirty-six keys, doesn't _he_ know the exact structure of the 'locks'?

**Rosethorn:** Yes…

**Frostpine:** So why can't we ask him for the answer?

**Other Three Mages:** NO.

**Niko:** I want to find it out myself!

**Lark:** Crane's a bit off in the head.  He just _might_ throw himself at me and attempt to assassinate me just for _being_ within five hundred feet of him.

**Rosethorn:** Frostpine, you're nuts.  I WANT OUT.

**Author:** ***Shrugs.***  Okay.

A completely arbitrary asteroid bursts into flame and hits the fifth chapter.

**Author's Note:** Yes, it's stupid.  Review anyway, and receive a cookie!  I actually have a really good idea (I think it is, anyway; you may not agree with me, as you probably have a normal brain) for the next chapter, which will follow the pattern and be Tortallian.  The dead characters of Tortall will argue about which of their lives was most meaningful… I can see lots of great material there.  For all you Faithful lovers, Faithful will also be there, as well as – well, I can't give it all away now, can I?  Actually, I can't, because I don't _know_ everything about it, but oh well.  I guess you (and I) will just have to find out next chapter, won't we?  And just for the record, I'm going to add the little line that everyone adds on these Author's Notes, and say "Assuming there is another chapter."  Please bear in mind that you can disregard that statement (unless nobody reviews this chapter, and maybe not even then) because I enjoy writing this story even more than you appear to enjoy reading it.  I could be wrong, of course.  I'm often wrong.  Oh, yeah.  Time for the daily rant about Emelan verses Tortallian fics.  ***Everybody groans and covers his or her ears.***  Hey!  It's not that bad.  This time I have something _constructive_ to say.  I think that a lot of the new Emelan fics that are already out could be improved upon.  Were I a flamer, I would say they were trash (or some slightly worse term).  But I am not a flamer, I am a writer and an occasional reviewer.  The characters are just too… _way_ in-character.  You know, Lark's _too_ sweet, and Briar's _too_ sneaky.  Just some tips!  I'm not saying all the fics are bad; on the contrary, many are quite good.  I'd just like the people to kind of ease up on the deeply in character outlook.  After all, it hasn't exactly gotten them reviews, so this is constructive criticism.  I'm not even reviewing them with this information!  So I can't be flaming, especially since I didn't name anything!  Wow, this is really getting long.  On that note, I leave you.  Farewell, fellow Reviewers!****


	6. Dead Characters Argue Pointlessly: DCAP

**Author's Note:** Gee.  When your story has thirty-three reviews, you know several things.  One is that you secretly had a hidden talent all along.  That my talent is to fascinate people with insane and random stuff is not the point.   Another thing that it tells you is that you aren't the only one with a lot of free time on your hands.  And the third thing it tells you is that by the time you're writing the sixth chapter, you are most definitely obsessed.  Actually, it tells me a lot more stuff, not the least that I have (dun dun dun) 33 reviews, but that's not the point.  I'm not quite sure what the point is… oh, yeah.  Just my comment for the day, there are WAY too many Alanna goes to the convent stories out these days!  I mean, gee, how many new and original plots can you _get_ out of one basic storyline?  I haven't actually read beyond the middle of the first chapter in any of them, so I don't precisely know why they're getting all the reviews, but I hope they have some individual twists, because I sure can't tell from the summary!  Ahem.  Reviewers (and ordinary readers), please disregard my rants.  Thank you.  Oh, yeah.  You want the story.  Here it is!****

Faithful, Roger, Thom, Joren, Liam, and Ozorne argue over whose life was the most meaningful.  (Yes, I know there are more dead characters than that, but these are the most important ones I could think of.  Maybe a minor dead character reunion later…)

**Thom:** I go first!

**Liam: *rolls eyes*** You're worse than Alanna.  At least she asks people to _pick_ her.

**Faithful:** Not that she listens.

**Liam:** No, she doesn't.

**Roger:** Ozorne!  Joren!  Kind of an evil people reunion, don't you think?

**Ozorne:** Yeah, for the first time we get to _match_ the 'good' people!

**Joren:** Too bad it's when we're dead… I mean, if we weren't… ***glares at Thom, Liam, and Faithful.***

**Thom:** Quiet.  I'm a better mage than Roger!

**Roger:** Oh?  So how'd I suck up your magic, then?

**Thom:** Um… well… I was… you know… caught by surprise…

**Faithful:** That was smooth, Thom.  _Real_ smooth.

**Thom:** Whose side are you on, anyway?

**Faithful:** The Great Mother Goddess's.  She's with Alanna right now, but not with _you_.  Stuck-up, idiot mage…

**Roger:** See?  Faithful's on my side!

**Faithful:** I'm not on your side either, you creep.  You're an egomaniac with expensive clothes and spells that aren't worth three galleons.

**All:** Galleons?

**Author:** Never mind.

**Liam:** I'm the best fighter here!  **My** life was the most meaningful!

**Joren:** The author obviously hates me.  This is my first line!

**Author:** Yeah, I do hate you, Joren.

**Joren:** I'll get back at you for that.  Anyway, I think you tried one of those 'meaningful' things before, with a bunch of other fighters.  You failed, as I recall.

**Liam:** Ah… well… you see…

**Joren:** Anyway, I _would_ have gotten through the Chamber of Ordeal.  But I didn't, because…

**Ozorne:** Because the chamber doesn't let people with intricate plots to mass-murder other people survive!  ***Breaks down in tears.***

**Roger:** Oh, come on.  It let _me_ through.

**Faithful:** Hold on.  I need to check something.  ***Begins shuffling through records.***

**Ozorne: *ignoring Roger's attempts at comfort***  And I never passed the Chamber of Ordeal anyway!  So why am I crying?

**Roger:** Um… I don't know.  Because Joren doesn't care?

**Joren:** You hit the nail on the head.

**Thom:** Everybody rally to my side!  The Omnipotent force of good always vanquishes the Not-so-Omnipotent force of evil!

**Liam:** Only in Tamora Pierce's books.  And anyway, you _died_.  Why are you arguing for the author that killed you? 

**Thom:** Because it wouldn't be Jolly to do otherwise!

**Liam:** You're a regular nut case, a –

**Faithful:** ***satisfied*** Found them!

**Roger: *suspiciously*** Found what?

**Faithful:** The Chamber of Ordeal's records of knights, of course!  Now hold on… ***traces paw down the list*** Roald of Conté, Robert of Conté, Rocky of Conté, Rodney of Conté, Rodney II of Conté, Roel of Conté, Roffo of Conté – why does your family have so many Ro names, Roger? – Roffo II of Conté – wait, he didn't pass – Rok of Conté ***Looks up.***  Nope, sorry, Roger, you aren't on the list.  You _aren't_ a night.

**Roger:** I'm not?  Oops.

**Ozorne:** See?  Even your pathetic attempts at comfort are of no avail!

**Liam:** Shut up, Ozorne.  Everyone else in the room could beat you up in a second and a half.

**Ozorne:** So?  I bet the author doesn't even know _how_ to beat people up…

**Author:** Wanna end the fic?

**Joren:** So soon?

**Author:** Uh-huh.

**Joren:** Sure, why not?

Suddenly, a two-hundred-mile-wide lightning bolt thunders down onto the sixth chapter and vanquishes it.

**Author's Note:** By now you know the drill.  Read, review, give me good reviews, no flames, already did Emelan / Tortall rant, blah, blah, blah.  This wasn't as good as I thought it was going to be… oh, well.  I can always revise it and force you to review again!  And again!  And again and again and again!  Well, anyway, I shall see you when I have (probably) forty reviews!  Although I may allow less.  But please don't take chances!  And I'll take off multiple reviews from the same person, so _please_ don't do that.  It's just annoying.  Thank you!  Bye!  Support the short (I'm NOT short)!****


	7. Emelan Sun Theory Championship: ESTC

**Author's Note:** Okay, I'm sorry I didn't update for so long.  I have just one short of fifty reviews!  Hooray!  But you know, I'm just lazy and I couldn't be bothered before this so… yeah.  And you really don't have to pay attention to me.  Though it would be nice if you would, seeing as I'm talking to you.  You should listen when people talk to you, or they will become annoyed and thwap you.  Ah well… on to the story!****

Sandry, Tris, Briar and Daja reflect upon the sunlight.

**Daja****:** Have you ever noticed how bright sunlight is?  I mean, look at that yellow stuff!  *Waves vaguely in the direction of the sun.*

**Briar****:** Why?  I mean… it's the sun.  We already knew it was there.

**Sandry****:** I wonder what keeps it burning?

**Briar****:** ***sarcastically*** I'm sure it's some sort of advanced fission-fusion process that we know nothing about.  Geeze, it's just a big burning log that rotates around the Earth!

**Tris****: *uncertainly*** So it's a big nuclear powered ball of hydrogen gas?  Isn't that what you said?  ***Tris begins biting her nails.*** Golly gosh, I'm so nervous!  I'm so glad I can bite my nails like I always do in the books!

**Daja****:** ***insistently*** But seriously, the sunlight is so bright!  And it's also quite shiny.

**Sandry****:** Yay!  We have a nuclear power source right in the sky!  I can make a pretty thread pattern of it!

**Briar****:** I do not believe you guys.  You are so gullible.  I bet if I told you the sun was a giant ghost…

**Daja****: *interrupting Briar*** A giant ghost?  THE SKY IS A GIANT GHOST?

**Briar****:** No, actually it isn't, and anyway I was talking about the sun, but my point is –

**Daja****: *screaming*** RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!  THE SKY IS DEAD AND HAUNTING US!

**Everybody but Briar****: **AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

**Author****:** You guys are pathetic.  I have you talking about the sun and now you are talking about ghosts.  Of the sky.  Which is, by the way, a really stupid idea.

**Briar****:** You convince 'em, I can't do it!

**Author****:** Ah.  Guys?

**Daja, Sandry and Tris****: *stop screaming*** Yeah?

**Author****:** The sky is not a ghost.  Nor is it dead.  Now get back to the sun.

**Sandry****:** Fine.  I need to do a thread mural thing!  Pasco would be so proud!

**Tris****:** What does Pasco have to do with the sun?  Or, for that matter, anything else?

**Sandry****:** Well… uh… he… um… he bites his nails!  YAY!

**Daja****: *enthusiastically*** Frostpine and I could use the sun as a forge!  Since it must be really, really hot if it's a nuclear power plant and all.

**Briar****: *exasperated*:** HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?  IT'S!  A!  BURNING!  LOG!  IN!  THE!  SKY!

**Daja****: *condescendingly*** Now, I'm sure that's what you believed when you said it, but maybe it's true after all!  Maybe the fates were merely using you as the mouthpiece of their thoughts!  Which involve fire!  Fire is fun!

**Tris****:** And the sun dries up the clouds!  Like that song.  ***Tris begins to sing in a horribly off-key voice.  Everyone but Briar quickly joins her.  Briar covers his ears.***

**Tris, Sandry and Daja****:** The itsy bitsy spider crawled up the waterspout…

**Briar****:** Okay, so there's this spider.  Climbing up a… waterspout?  I don't even know what that is!  We're in a medieval fantasy setting!

**Tris, Sandry and Daja****:** Out came the rain and washed the spider out!

**Briar****:** Hold on.  How did the rain come "out"?  And why haven't I heard this song before?  ***Pauses and reflects.***  Thank god for illiterate thieves.

**Tris, Sandry and Daja****:** Out came the sun and dried up all the rain…

**Briar****:** How fast was that?  'Cause in my experience, it takes awhile for the rain to all be dried up.  Especially in the sewers.

**Tris, Sandry and Daja****: *triumphantly*** And the itsy spider climbed up the spout again!

**Briar****:** That song made no sense!  It had no value!  How, may I ask, did that song get in this story?

**Tris****:** Well, it had the sun in it.  So it… ***Tris sighs dramatically.***  Belonged.

**Sandry****:** Anyway, it's a cool song!  You must have had a very deprived childhood if you never heard it before.

**Briar****:** I stand by what I said before about the blessings of deprived childhoods.

**Daja****:** But how could you not like "The itsy bitsy spider"?  It's a famous childhood classic!  Maybe you didn't properly grasp it.  Let me sing it again… ***Daja prepares to launch into an off-key song.***

**Briar****: *hurriedly*** I don't think that will be necessary.  Anyway, what happened to our reflections on the sun?

**Sandry****:** Well, those got boring.  So we got on another top-

**Tris****:** No they didn't!  The sun never gets boring!  The sun stays there all day!  It's so fascinating!  I could rant for a long time about it!  Because the sun is yellow and shiny and bright and hot and –

**Daja****: *in a mock-excited voice*** Really, Tris?

**Tris****: *enthusiastically*** YEAH!

**Daja****:** I actually don't care.  Neither do the rest of us.  We're on the topic of nursery songs now!

**Author****:** NO!  NO!  NO!  Talk about the sun!

**Sandry****:** But why?  The sun is boring.  How do you expect us to keep talking about such a boring thing?

**Author****:** Just do it™.

**Briar****:** Great, now our author's selling out.  This is the ultimate low.  We have nothing to talk about, the omnipotent creator of the story is quoting Nike, and I am the only person with any brains whatsoever here.  And I'm not even sure about that.

**Sandry****:** I don't have enough lines.  So I'm just going to say something here.  Preferably something stupid.

**Tris****:** Like what?

**Sandry****:** I dunno.  Something like "Oooh, a lark!  That reminds me of Lark!  I wonder if I could make thread out of lark feathers!  But then… I'd be making thread out of Lark!"

**All****: *stare at Sandry.***

**Daja****:** I cannot believe that you just said that.

**Briar****:** THE STUPIDITY OF THIS CONVERSATION IS KILLING ME!

**Author****:** Not literally.

**Briar****:** I think I might prefer the literal form.

**Author****: *shrugging*** Suit yourself.

Rotten tomato bombs zoom into the seventh chapter, exploding with a POW! noise and sending little shards of shrapnel everywhere.

**Author's Note:** Okay… here we go.  Reviews and tips are welcome.  However, if you don't want to, you don't have to… but then you won't get another cookie!  This time they're chocolate, vanilla and strawberry with that icing!  You know, those great cookies that seem glazed… *mouth waters.*  Ahem.  At any rate, I have no rant, having been detached lately from the Tamora Pierce fandom.   I shall speedily become reacquainted with it so I can do a respectable rant!  Because nobody wants to listen to somebody who has nothing to say!  ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?  I have a _lot_ more I could throw at you!  And – oh yes.  Um, just review until I post the next chapter!****


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